


More Of The Family

by trufield



Series: Harry S. Truman: One Man Animal Rescue [14]
Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: M/M, alberts experience with children is zero, but he does a pretty good job, frank and doris in the background, harry gets to be a rad uncle, it helps they look so similar to harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-04 21:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13373823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trufield/pseuds/trufield
Summary: Harry and Albert visit Frank. This time Albert meets the rest of the household.(Nobody said Frank only had one kid did they? There's no reason Harry couldn'tstillbe an uncle in the future)





	More Of The Family

**Author's Note:**

> [16 February 1991]

Harry gave him an excitable yet nervous grin. Albert was not remotely excited but he _was_ pretty nervous. Not that he would admit it. They were en route to Frank’s and this time Albert would meet his family. He thought it was best to go back as soon as he had the time to, while the last visit was still fresh in his mind. It was better not to delay it - that wasn't particularly helpful to anyone. He had somehow missed that Frank had kid _s_. Plural. He had no experience with children, the last time he had to be around any for any length of time he was a child himself. He knew he was no child's idea of ideal company either. He hoped Harry would save him from the worst of it. 

They clearly meant a lot to Harry with how much he was looking forward to seeing them. He didn't talk about them often, hence Albert's misinterpretation, although he was concerned that perhaps he didn't devote his full attention to those conversations. Harry had given him the cliffnotes: three young children - 10, 6 and 3, two boys and a girl (the middle child). Albert would make the effort to remember their names. Fred (Frederick, because of course Trumans were the kind of folk to name their kids after their relatives if not presidents), Charlotte and Scott. He had been assured they were ‘nice kids’. 

“Harry, if they mean so much to you why do you hardly ever talk about them?”

“Well… you don't know them.”

“That doesn't mean I wouldn't want to hear about it.”

“Now you're gonna meet them maybe I will.”

Albert would argue the case that he spoke about many things Albert had no idea of. He'd told him about Frank before he had met him and many other people too. He could only think Harry hadn't mentioned them for fear of scaring him away. Albert let it lie and changed the topic. 

\-----

Albert saw movement at the window as soon as he pulled up at the house. He groaned internally but no children came barrelling out of the door. He got out of the car and let Harry lead the way. Doris opened the door to them, at least Albert assumed it was Doris, blonde hair loosely pulled back and a warm smile. 

“Harry! How're you? The kids are so excited.”

Harry leaned down to hug her. 

“Everything's fine,” he smiled. “Better than fine. And I'm excited to see them too. This,” he stepped aside. “Is Albert.”

Albert hadn't thought about this part. He was too preoccupied with nightmare child scenarios. He offered his hand because that was what he usually did. She shook it. 

“It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Albert wondered what Frank had said about him. 

“Well come on in! Frank isn't back yet.”

They followed her inside, into the kitchen where she made them coffee. Albert heard a nervous giggle and shushing but he looked around and no one was there. 

“Where are they?” Harry frowned. 

“Oh you know what they're like,” Doris said, nodding to Albert. “They're having a shy spell.”

Harry grinned and left the room to search for them. Albert thought it would be best for him to stay put. 

“ _HEEYYOOO!_ ” Harry yelled and Albert almost spat his drink. 

An enthusiastic chorus of ‘ _Uncle Harry!_ ’ was heard, followed by some rar-ing noises (provided by Harry). There was laughter and giggling. Albert found himself intrigued. He wanted to see Harry in this environment. 

“Let's see what they're up to,” Doris said and he followed her out. 

They found Harry rolling around on the floor with children hanging off of and crawling over him. All of them had fair, curly hair, the older one had it cut short and was more brown than blonde. Albert imagined they'd all grow into chestnut brown locks eventually. The eldest one spotted Albert first and jumped up to stand and look more presentable, schooling his expression into neutrality. It was such a Truman Look - the spitting image of Harry's own expression. Evidently the Truman gene was a strong one. 

“Hello,” he said in determination. 

That caused the others to look round and scrabble off of Harry, who sat up now he was freed of small children. 

“This is Albert. Your dad told you he was coming right?”

“Yes!” Charlotte piped up. “Albert is Uncle Harry's boyfriend.”

“That's right,” Harry said with a stupid, sappy smile on his face. 

“Cuz you love him,” the youngest joined in, wanting everyone to know he had also been informed. 

“Just like mom and dad love each other,” his sister said. 

“Also true. Generally speaking,” Albert said. 

They didn't know how to react to him, they just stared - which was a little disconcerting. Strangely endearing too with all the similarities they shared with their uncle. 

“You look nice. Fancy,” Charlotte ventured. Albert would take it, putting her limited vocabulary into consideration. 

“Thanks.”

Reassured by good manners, they hurried away once more. Harry grinned at him from his position on the floor and Albert folded his arms to indicate that he had no intention of helping him up. Harry stared him down in a way which probably would have meant Harry was prepared to pull him to the floor instead if they were somewhere more private. 

Harry got up himself and a dopey old Labrador Albert hadn't even noticed loped over to him. It made sense, Albert thought, for Frank to have the classic ‘nuclear family’. Everything about the Truman family, Harry's parents included from what Albert knew of them, was classic ‘real’ American life. Not the life painted on 50s ad campaigns with white picket fences and suburban housewives in sunny dresses. Real. Three kids and a dog. Playing catch in the yard. Dinner on the table when dad gets home. Albert imagined Harry's childhood was much the same and, although he didn't appear as such, Harry was an outlier. He wouldn't be following this blueprint of life that had been laid out for him. It was no choice of his own, he just ended up this way. 

“This is Digger,” Harry said, smiling up at him as he petted the dog. 

“I imagine his digging days have come to a halt.”

“Yeah but he's real good with kids.”

“Because he lets them climb over him, too tired to protest?”

“Exactly,” Harry laughed. 

Frank came home and excitable squeals were heard about that too - their levels of enthusiasm heightened by Harry's arrival. Frank leaned into the doorway of the living room, his youngest son slotted under his arm. 

“Harry. Albert.” He nodded to them in greeting before disappearing again. 

\-----

Harry and Frank were in the yard, kids playing with (more accurately around) the dog. Albert watched from the kitchen window as he assisted Doris with preparing food. It was something to do. Something familiar and Doris was friendly enough. 

The kids came in from the yard. Albert stared at the stuffed hedgehog Charlotte was holding to her chest. Albert wondered if he would be plagued with this association for the rest of his life. 

“I got him for Christmas,” she stated. “He's just like Uncle Harry's.” She suddenly stopped and looked at him wide-eyed. “ _Your_ name is Albert too!”

“It is.” He wasn't going to say that wasn't a coincidence. She giggled anyway. 

“Have you met him?”

“Who?”

“Albert! Hedgehog Albert.”

“Of course. I've been to Harry's home. I help look after his animals sometimes.”

“You _do_?” She said as if that was the greatest privilege. Which he supposed it was to a 6 year old. “Look. You should come and see.”

She wandered off and he hesitated, looking to Doris. 

“Thanks for your help Albert. It's almost ready to go in the oven.”

It was plain encouragement for him to follow her daughter. He put down the knife before finding her waiting in the hallway. She led him to her room where she proceeded to line up stuffed animals on her bed for him to look at. He realised she had one to represent each of Harry's pets. 

“All of the chickens are the same. I can't tell the difference like the real ones.”

“Do you want them to look like the real ones?” She nodded. “Go ask your dad for a marker pen and maybe we can fix it.”

She jumped up and ran out of the room on her mission. Albert held a fluffy dead-eyed chicken and surveyed the room. It looked like she shared it with her younger brother - a miniature Stetson hung from the post at the end of the bed on the opposite wall. There were toys and crayons on the floor but not as messy as he would have imagined. He supposed Frank had a good balance of discipline and softness, he probably had chores and responsibilities scheduled for them. It was nice - a nice environment for a child to grow up in. Of course they were good parents. Harry probably would've been too. 

His thought was halted by the young niece’s return. She sat beside him on the floor in front of her bed and passed him the marker. 

“Which one is this?”

“Hatty. What did you get for Christmas?” Charlotte asked as he coloured in the fluff on the top of the head. 

“I don't get anything.”

There was a small gasp and he looked up at her. 

“Not _anything_?”

“I don't need anything.”

She was quiet after that but very happy with her chickens. She thanked him for his assistance when he had finished and hurried away. 

\-----

Over dinner Frank made a jibe about Albert's newfound quiet nature, that ‘ _it’d be nice if you were like this more often I reckon._ ’ He knew full well Albert had to refrain from a snarky response. It was a test. It was exhausting, keeping himself in check all day. Which was why it was better to say less. In any other situation he wouldn't care but this was for Harry (and perhaps he was a little fearful of making tiny Trumans cry). 

Of course he couldn't help the occasional sarcastic response or deadpan joke. It was in his nature. He saw Fred attempting to hide his smile a number of times. He was glad someone appreciated it. At least that one would still like him when Albert didn't have to be so polite. 

After they'd eaten, Albert was alone in the kitchen washing the dishes (much to Doris’ protests). He needed to keep busy and it gave him points for politeness. He felt someone watching him. He turned and almost dropped a plate on the floor. The youngest one was standing one step away from him, staring at him with a frown. How long had he been there?

“Why are you bad?” He said before Albert could ask what he was doing. 

Albert was taken aback and suddenly the other two were there awaiting his response. 

“Listen, I may not be the most personable of people but that doesn't make me _bad_. I have sound morals.”

“Then why doesn't Santa give you presents?”

Albert could have laughed. They were all looking at him in mild horror as if wondering how their beloved Uncle Harry could choose to be with someone that had been relegated to Santa’s naughty list. 

“I don't need Santa to give me presents. I don't celebrate Christmas.”

Horrified gasps. The others moved closer. 

“You don't get _any_ presents?” The eldest asked. 

“Why?” Charlotte piped up, in clear disapproval of the injustice. 

“My family are of a different religion and we have a different holiday.”

He thought that would be enough but he was met with three thoughtful frowns which he knew well enough from Harry were a request for further explanation. He sighed and shepherded them to the living room. He sat on the couch and they sat on the floor in front of him. 

“But you still don't get presents on your special holiday?” Charlotte asked. 

“There is some gift-giving but that's not really for me.”

“What do you _do_?” Fred asked. 

Albert gave a brief explanation of Hanukkah. Mainly about lighting candles. He was drawing a menorah when Harry walked in. 

“What are you guys up to?”

“Hamika!” Declared the youngest. “Candle tree holiday!”

“Really?” Harry asked, fighting off a laugh. 

“Yes. It's because Albert is Jewish,” Fred stated respectfully, nodding to Albert. 

“You should still get him a present though Uncle…” Charlotte frowned at him. 

Albert gave Harry a sly grin as Harry shifted. 

“We spend time together and we make it special.”

“Hm, your Uncle is good at that and that's enough for me.”

Harry smiled at him and the children seemed satisfied with that response. Harry sat beside Albert and moved on to ask what they were doing at school and received very detailed responses. They began to get restless after a time and went off once more. Harry leaned in and kissed Albert. 

“See?!” Charlotte yelled, making them jump and separate, but she was off down the hall once again. “I _told_ you they could kiss.”

Harry sputtered a laugh and Albert leaned in again. 

“She's a smart kid. I'd like to prove her right…”

\-----

Evening descended after a day of Albert watching, and occasionally taking part in, Harry's family life. Frank informed them it was beyond the younger children's bedtime. They groaned but Harry grinned. 

“Aw c’mon, you guys don't like stories anymore?” They brightened at that, hurriedly protesting. “Well get on up those stairs then.”

Harry led the way and they bundled past him. Albert followed. There was hesitation at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Bye Uncle!” The youngest said hugging his leg and Albert didn't know what to say to that but it certainly started something. 

“Uncle Albert!” Charlotte echoed, hugging him too.

The eldest smiled at him, not ready to make that commitment. 

“Well… maybe I want to hear a story too,” he said, not looking at Harry, arms awkward and stiff, not touching anything. 

The children beamed and Harry scooped up Scott to carry him up the stairs. Charlotte took the opportunity to cling to his back and Fred followed them up. 

“Alright!” Harry announced. “Get ready and no cheating. You've gotta brush your teeth.”

Charlotte fell to the floor and scurried away and Scott almost propelled himself out of Harry's arms. Albert waited in the hall with Harry as the children disappeared. Doors were torn open as they hurried back past them in their pajamas to the bathroom to huddle around the sink. When they were finished they tugged Harry into a room and Charlotte grabbed hold of Albert's sleeve to get him inside too. 

“Does Uncle Harry read you stories too?” She asked. 

“No but perhaps he should.”

Harry was tucking the youngest in and his sister jumped into bed so Harry could do the same for her. Fred made himself comfortable at the end of her bed and Harry seated himself on the other with the book they had left out for him. He produced his glasses from the pocket of his jacket and opened the book. Albert leaned on the doorframe. 

It was a book for young children with large pictures on each page. Pretty watercolours of cute animals. Harry would hold it up to them after he finished the page so they could see the illustrations. He altered his voice for the different characters. He had definitely made Albert softer if he was getting slightly emotional over _this_. 

Once Harry had finished with a gentle ‘ _the end_ ’, he closed the book and leaned over to kiss Scott’s forehead (he was already asleep). He moved quietly across to do the same for Charlotte, and tucked her up tighter. She kissed his cheek with a whispered goodnight. Harry passed the book to Fred, who put it back in its place as Harry turned out the lamp. 

“Goodnight,” Harry murmured from the doorway. 

“Goodnight Uncle Albert,” she whispered back. 

“Goodnight,” Albert said softly. 

They left the room, Harry's hand on Fred's shoulder, and left the door open a fraction so the hall light could cast a reassuring beam inside. 

“C’mon,” Harry said leading Fred to his room. “You can stay up and read for awhile okay, but don't push it.”

Fred cast a look over his shoulder at Albert and frowned. Albert reassured him. 

“Goodnight to you as well,” he said leaning against the wall, arms folded to show he wasn't going to follow them. The boy was undoubtedly embarrassed that he was perhaps ‘too old’ the have his uncle tuck him into bed and would rather not have a witness. 

“Will we see you again?” Fred asked, stopping to turn back to him. 

“Only if you want me to.”

“I do. I'd like that.”

“Well alright then. I'll see you again sometime.”

He received a nod and a smile before he turned away to his room. Harry smiled at him too. A proud sort of smile and Albert huffed and looked away. 

When Harry returned to him, he looked deep into his eyes and Albert kissed him. He still had his glasses on. Harry's arms enveloped him, pressing their chests together and Albert sighed. This visit had been far more pleasant than he had expected. 

“... I love you so much,” Harry whispered in his ear. 

“Do you think we should go home?”

“Yeah…” Harry let him go. “But one more drink for politeness.”

\-----

It couldn't wait until they got back to Harry's. When they got back Harry would be all soft and loving and grateful. He would kiss him deep and hold him tight and Albert would easily push problematic thoughts to the back of his mind. Albert did not want to have to rush through it before he left in the morning. He did not want to leave on a sour note. 

“Pull over.”

Harry glanced at him in concern but didn't question. He pulled over. 

“Albert?”

Albert sighed. 

“I wouldn't want to be a parent. You need to know that.”

“That's okay…” Harry put a hand on his arm. 

“No. Don't just accept it. Think about it. It's something I wouldn't be able to change and you shouldn't deny yourself such a thing if it was something you desired. I wouldn't want it to be something you grow to regret.”

“Albert.” Harry said firmly. “I regret nothing about being with you-”

“Don’t-”

“Let me finish. Honestly I never considered having kids of my own. Never thought I'd be in a position to have any or be _with_ anyone who I could have a family with. So I never thought about it. Fred, Charlotte and Scott are more than enough for me and I get the bonus of not having the stress of being a parent.” Harry smiled at him but it became a little shaky. “Sure I wanted a family Albert… but all that consisted of… for me… was someone like you…”

Albert grabbed his face and kissed him. Harry sighed against his lips. 

“That's the only thing I desire…” Harry murmured. Albert cleared his throat. 

“Good.”

“It would be nice if you could visit them with me. It'd only have to be a few times a year. They like you.”

“I'll go with you as often as you like.”

Harry beamed at him and Albert kissed him again. 

“Do you have further, more specific desires relating to me?” 

“Unless you want me to get you into the backseat I think you should wait for my answer.” Albert was quiet. “Do you want me to? I will. I'll off-road this thing and I will.”

“I think I'd prefer you to be able to do many more things to me in your home…” It was still difficult for Albert to say, Harry's offer was tempting despite the uncomfortable location. He would not have his last night here wasted by acting like a desperate teenager. 

Harry got as close as he could manage anyway - soft and loving and grateful already. Wasn't he always? Harry had never imagined he would be able to attain a life like this. A relationship like this. Neither had Albert. He never desired it (or fought against doing so) because it seemed such an impossibility. He would never have thought someone would give him so much. Would care so much, love him so much. Loved him for who he was. 

They separated and Harry got the car back in the road. Albert switched the radio on for him. 

“... You wouldn't mind being an Uncle though?”

“It doesn't seem so bad.”

\-----

A week later Albert received a letter adorned with Harry's scrawl. He opened it only to find another envelope. This one said ‘ _Uncle Albert_ ’. It seemed to have been written very carefully, most likely by the eldest. Albert sat down and opened it. The paper he pulled out was not a letter but a picture. A crude crayon drawing of two people, some hearts and various animals. Thankfully they were labelled in different handwriting. A messier hand with the occasional backwards letter which switched to the neater writing that had been on the envelope. 

It was him and Harry. Each of Harry's animals too (a spiky mess with stick legs helpfully labelled ‘ _hedgehog Albert_ ’). He realised the younger one had some involvement too, the cats were considerably different and some of the colouring far messier. He turned it over to find a message on the back:

“ _We thought you should still have a present anyway_ ”

Each of them had signed their names a different colour. Albert gruffly cleared his throat. It was February for crying out loud. He'd put it on his fridge because that's what people apparently did. He should write them a response he supposed. To thank them. He'd take a picture of the city and send that too. 


End file.
